Study In Dæmons
by DeadWizardGod
Summary: John Watson is Will Parry. Over years of travelling, he has changed his identity and fallen below the radar. But will moving in with Sherlock Holmes put both his, and Kirjava's, life in danger? Of course
1. Chapter 1

John Watson sat across from his dæmon, the cat staring back at him. Kirjava knew the situation they were in wasn't John's fault but couldn't help but blame him for it. If he wasn't so damned heroic, they would still be on the front line, fighting.  
Even when they were younger, when John was still called Will and Kirjava was invisible, he had tried to save people. Growing up, after being adopted and moving to the most bizarre places, he knew he wanted to be an army doctor. But what we he to do now? He had been forced to leave the army and couldn't afford a place to live on army pensions.  
Kirjava jumped onto his bed and nudged his side. 'We need to get out. We need to find a flatmate.'  
'We need to find a flat first.' John chuckled. Kirjava scratched at his hand and moved to the window. He opened it, letting her out into the city. Being one of the very few people in the universe with a dæmon, he had to act like Kirjava was a normal cat, albeit a rather large and strangely coloured one.  
His hand hovered over his laptop before he left. His therapist had told him to write everything down that happened to him. Shaking his head and ignoring the laptop, he walked outside.  
Meeting his dæmon in the park, they sat down on a bench, Kirjava curling up on John's lap. John watched people passing, enjoying seeing the dæmons that were invisible to everyone else. Between the ages of 15 and 18, he had lived in a monastery with his adopted parents and sister. The monks had taught him to see the souls of other people, a trick his step-mother Mary had perfected long before him. However, he had learned a trick she never could.  
John could make someone's dæmon solid, like Kirjava had become after their adventure to the land of the dead. He had done it for his stepparents and adopted sister and used it in the army; if he solidified their dæmon, Kirjava would attack the unprepared creature, making it easier to defeat the man.  
'John! John Watson!'  
He turned to look at the man, frowning when he saw him. Was he supposed to recognise this man.  
'Stamford, Mike Stamford. We were at Barts together.'  
Of course, he recognised the pig dæmon trotting at the man's side. The swine looked at Kirjava enviously because she could be seen, a luxury for dæmons of this universe.  
'I heard you were abroad somewhere getting shot at. What happened?'  
'I got shot.'  
Kirjava whispered something in his ear and he nodded, scratching the back if her head to make it look natural. He answered most of the man questions on auto-pilot, not really paying attention until the man mentioned Harry.  
'Like that's going to happen.'  
Harry's dæmon, Fillani, was a dog and always fought with Kirjava. The problem was, unlike John, Harry didn't have an extended connection with her dæmon, meaning Fillani had to stay with her all the time.  
'I don't know, get a flatmate or something?'  
'Come on, who'd want me for a flatmate?'  
Mike chuckled and his dæmon dug it's nose along the ground. Due to not 'properly existing' the ground wasn't disturbed in the slightest  
'You're the second person to say that to me today.'  
'Who was the first?'


	2. Chapter 2

John walked through the hospital, Kirjava draped over his shoulders. Mike walked next to him, glancing at Kirjava with confusion. Human and dæmon couldn't blame him, the cat was huge and barely stayed on John's small shoulders. They walked into a room where a tall, dark haired man was leaning over a microscope. His dæmon, a golden eagle with black feather tips, was perched on his shoulder looking down at the substance her human was inspecting. Her eyes are pitch black, the same colour as her feather tips and the man's hair.  
The dæmon looked up and screeched, no sound coming out. Kirjava climbed across John's arm onto the counter, tilting her head at the eagle. The man spoke to Mike as his dæmon scrutinised the army doctor. Kirjava growled under her breath, causing the bird to ruffle her wings. She didn't seem scared, as most dæmons did when confronted by John's solidified soul, merely curious. Kirjava glanced at John, shaking her head slightly. She wasn't sure she liked this man and his dæmon. When John offered the man his phone, he hit Kirjava lightly on the head. The message was clear; act like a normal cat.  
'Iraq or Afghanistan?'  
John's eyes widened. 'Sorry?' Kirjava's tail began to sway, her way of threatening the eagle. The dæmon rolled it's eyes (could birds do that) and flew back to its human. She nipped on his ear but didn't seem bothered by the large cat.  
'Which was it, Iraq or Afghanistan?'  
'Afghanistan, sorry, how did you-'  
But the man was distracted by a woman, walking into the room with coffee. After insulting and belittling her, the man turned back to John.  
'How do you feel about the violin?'  
'I'm sorry, what?' John raised an eyebrow.  
'I play the violin when I'm thinking and sometimes I don't talk for days on end. Would that bother you? Potential flatmates should know the worst about each other.'  
John glanced at Kirjava. 'You told him about me?' He asked Mike.  
'Not a word.' Mike was smirking, like he knew this would happen. Kirjava began to growl and John ran a hand through her fur.  
'Then who said anything about flatmates?' John was trying to keep himself under control. He didn't like it when people knew stuff about him. His past was too shadowy for that.  
'I did. Told Mike this morning I must be a difficult man to find a flatmate for. Now here he is, just after lunch with an old friend clearly just home from military service in Afghanistan. Wasn't a difficult leap.'  
Again with the army. 'How did you know about Afghanistan?'  
Again the man ignored him. 'Got my eye on a nice little place in central London. We ought to be able to afford it. We'll meet there tomorrow evening, seven o'clock. Sorry, got to dash. I think I left my riding crop in the mortuary.'  
Kirjava snarled and John pulled the dæmon into his arms. Now was not the time. 'Is that it?'  
'Is that what?' The man looked genuinely confused.  
'We've only just met and we're going to go and look at a flat?'  
'Problem?'  
John rolled his eyes. 'We don't know a thing about each other. I don't know where we're meeting. I don't even know your name.'  
The man smirked. He walked to the door, his dæmon jumping off his shoulder to glide alongside him. 'I know you're an Army doctor and you've been invalided home from Afghanistan. You've got a brother-' Sister. '-worried about you but you won't go to him for help because you don't approve of him, possibly because he's an alcoholic more likely because he recently walked out on his wife.' None of those things. 'And I know your therapist thinks your limp's psychosomatic quite correctly, I'm afraid.' Incorrect. 'That's enough to be going on with, don't you think? The name is Sherlock Holmes, and the address is 221B Baker Street. Afternoon.'  
And with that, Sherlock Holmes left, his dæmon flying after him. John shook his head. Mike simply smirked. 'Yeah, he's always like that.'  
Kirjava snapped her teeth, causing the pig to jump. John couldn't help but smirk as Mike jumped along with his dæmon. The man, of course, had no idea why he was scared.


	3. Chapter 3

Kirjava stalked the rooftops of London. John was going to look at the flat with Sherlock but she hadn't wanted to spend more time with him. That eagle just annoyed her. So she decided to check out the area, meeting up with her human later on.

A small bird landed in front of her and she grinned. Sinking low to the ground, she let out a growl. The bird set flight as she pounced and she chased it over dozens of buildings. She managed to bite hold of the bird's tail feathers when John sent a feeling of annoyance through the link. Feeling embarrassed, Kirjava let the bird go, sending an apology down the link. John shouldn't really be feeling those sort of emotions (adrenaline, glee and aggression) when he was looking at a flat for them.

Searching for him down the link, Kirjava headed to John's location. She sent a warning down the link when she reached 221B. She heard the window open below her and jumped straight into her human's arms. He chuckled, placing her down on one of the chairs.

'Sherlock's run off with the police.' He said, causing her to roll her eyes. He sat down opposite her, smiling. Kirjava was about to open her mouth to say something when Sherlock came back into the room.

'You're a doctor. Actually, you're an Army doctor.'

Kirjava growled slightly. The eagle on Sherlock's shoulder simply tilted her head. 'Yes.'

'Any good?'

'Very good.' By this time, Kirjava had jumped to John's chair and climbed to the top, looking Sherlock right in the eyes. If he was fazed, he didn't show it.

'Seen a lot of injuries, then. Violent deaths.' He said, as if it was completely normal.

'Well, yes.'

'Bit of trouble too, I bet?'

John had to hold down a shudder. Some of the trouble he had seen before his thirteenth birthday was worse than anything the army could throw at him. 'Of course. Yes. Enough for a lifetime, far too much.'

'Want to see some more?'

Kirjava purred. A feeling of excitement, joy and adrenaline spread down the link from both ends. 'Oh, God, yes.'

Kirjava leaped to the window as John almost ran downstairs. She met him outside the house and jumped on top of the taxi he was getting into. Inside, Sherlock was telling John everything he knew about him. He said about being an army doctor and training at Barts and John sat there and listened. When the 'consulting detective', as he called himself, got onto his wound, that was what he listened to.

'Missing two fingers on your left hand but they've been gone for years, you're used to only having three on one hand. However, your limp's bad when you walk, but you don't ask for a chair when you stand. Like you've forgotten about it, so it's at least partly psychosomatic. That says the original circumstances of the injury were traumatic but the hand suggests you are used to injuries and blood.'

John sat there and listened as Sherlock rambled on about Harry. He got a few things wrong but no one could guess he and Harry didn't get on because their dæmons constantly fought. Especially not Sherlock.

'And then there's your cat.' John had to contain his face when his flatmate said that. 'An old pet, one whose been with you a long time if your attachment is an indication. Not a family pet, completely yours, so she doesn't like strangers. Not old enough to be a childhood pet but to old to be a new purchase. So you got her just before or during the wars. She heavily injured- a limp and scratched shoulder- more so than any ordinary cat. You met her during the war which is why you won't let go of her and why she always returns to you.'

John nodded along and complimented Sherlock's deduction. None of it was true but he now had plausible story for how he met his 'cat'. It would work for anyone new he met but he would have to figure out how to explain to old friends that Kirjava had survived so long. They stepped out of the taxi to be greeted by a scowling woman. Her dæmon, a small chihuahua, growled at Sherlock's eagle but stopped when Kirjava jumped off the taxi, landing next to John with a thud. The chihuahua hid behind his human, glaring at the eagle as if it was her fault.

'Hello freak.'

John froze slightly, Kirjava stopping in her climb up his back. When they realised she wasn't talking to them, they relaxed.

'I'm here to see Detective Inspector Lestrade.' Sherlock said.

'Why?' She bit back, glaring. The chihuahua growled but one look from Kirjava shut her up.

'I was invited.' Sherlock said, as if it should be obvious.

'Why?'

'Think he wants me to take a look.' Sherlock smirked.

'Well you know what I think, don't you?'

'Always Sally.' He stopped, sniffing. 'You nearly didn't make it home last night.'

She floundered for a bit before turning to John. 'Who's this?'

'Colleague of mine, Dr. Watson. Dr. Watson, Sergeant Sally Donovan.' He paused before continuing. 'Old friend.'

She scoffed. 'A colleague? How do you get a colleague? Did he follow you home?'

John sighed, Kirjava wrapping her tail around his arm from her perch on his shoulders. 'Would it be better if I just waited...'

'No!' Sherlock said quickly. John just rolled his eyes and followed Sherlock. He could see why his dæmon didn't like the man. Sherlock insulted a man named Anderson, who had a small lizard dæmon clinging to his suit, insinuated Anderson and Donovan we're having an affair and walked into the building. John was about to follow when Donovan held her hand up.

'Sorry. You can't take that cat in there.'

He glared and Kirjava hissed but they parted. She ran away quickly, out of the rope and towards one of the buildings. He smiled, knowing she would jump from building to building and enter through any open window. With that thought in mind, he entered the crime scene.


End file.
